


The Way We Were(n't)

by glimmerglanger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 21:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimmerglanger/pseuds/glimmerglanger
Summary: There was something to be said for waking up not knowing who you were, where you were, or how you came to be there.The thing to be said was: it sucked.





	The Way We Were(n't)

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-Ragnarok and pre-Infinity War, during the period of time the Asgardians spent traveling through space on their way to their new home.
> 
> Still working out my anxiety about Endgame by writing fic. Only a few more days!

There was something to be said for waking up not knowing who you were, where you were, or how you came to be there.

The thing to be said was: it sucked.

A man blinked his eye open to see a mess of dark hair, a stunning profile, and, beyond that, an expansive room with metal walls and a metal ceiling. He groaned - his head hurt fiercely - and squeezed his eye shut in the hope that the effort would reset whatever was going on inside his head.

He didn’t remember… anything, really, but he was fairly certain that waking up on the ground with no recollection of his own identity wasn’t quite right. He opened his eye again when the figure sprawled against him stirred. His memory decided not to come back in a wave, leaving him staring into a face he did not know.

The other person was lying on his arm, dark hair splaying around them. His other arm was over the person’s waist, like they’d been embracing when they fell. The person had clear, green eyes, pale skin, and a frown set on a very fine looking mouth. The man said, at a loss for what else to do, “Hey. I don’t suppose you know who I am?”

The other figure blinked, brows drawing together as they sat up, slowly. “No,” they said, looking around the room. “I can’t say that I do.”

“Ah,” the man said. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

#

As it turned out, the metal room they were in was in a ship. A spaceship, if the expanse of stars outside the window along one side of the room was anything to judge by. A _large_ spaceship, based the long hallway outside the door - opened by Green Eyes and full of several other people, none of whom could remember so much as their names.

Everyone spent a moment demanding answers that did not seem likely to be forthcoming, before Green Eyes sighed and said, “Look, handsome, we’re not getting anywhere here. This is a ship. That means there has to be a bridge. Let’s look for that.”

“Handsome?” the man said, frowning. 

Green Eyes shrugged. “You’re an attractive man. And I don’t remember what affectionate names I used to call you. Are you coming?”

“What makes you think you called me affectionate names?” he asked, following Green Eyes as they picked their way through the crowd that, for the most part, fell in behind them to follow along.

Green Eyes cut a look back, a look that flowed up and down his form, hungry and appraising in a way that heated his blood. “Just a hunch,” Green Eyes said, dry, with a smile that transformed his expression in a most tempting way.

He gave Green Eyes a similarly appraising look and found that he shared the same hunch. His blood stirred, mind taking special note of long, slender fingers and the curve of Green Eyes’ mouth. And they had, after all, woken up holding onto one another.

He set those thoughts aside as they made their way through the ship, picking up additional followers as they went, until they reached a room full of controls and a large forward viewing area.

The screen currently displayed the visage of an creature that looked half made of wisps of colored air. The solid parts of its form were sharp-edged and almost crystalline. There was the suggestion of eyes and a mouth in its face. It made a faint, sighing sound as they entered, and said, “Ah, more of you.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, frowning at the creature. “What are you? Do you know why none of us remember anything?”

The creature sighed again. “As I was saying,” it said, “Your ship barged into our territory. All craft entering our territory are subject to the Fog. It will prevent you from remembering your reasons for coming here, which generally has the side-effect of blocking a majority of surface memories in other species.”

He digested that for a moment. Green Eyes frowned and said, “That seems a bit invasive.”

The colors on the creature on the screen shifted to pale blue. “Perhaps it is,” it said. “But it is our chosen method of defending our territory. We find that it is easy to send attackers on their way when they no longer remember they wished to attack us or how to work their weapons systems.”

“We didn’t intend to attack you,” the man - he refused to think of himself as Handsome - said.

“There is no way any of us can know that,” the creature said, shifting to a deeper blue, tinging towards green. “You will reach the other side of our territory in a matter of days, at which point the Fog will lift and your memories will return, allowing you to go about your journey without anyone coming to harm.”

“We have no reason to believe you,” Green Eyes said, his head tilted to the side and a frown on his mouth. 

“You have no reason not to believe us,” the creature said.

“You took our memories,” Green Eyes countered. “It’s not an act that inspires much trust. You could be leading us into a trap.”

The creature shifted to purple all at once. “We are not,” it said. “However, if you wish, you may turn your ship around and exit our territory as you entered it. We can provide you with a route you will need to follow to avoid re-entering our empire. It will add time to your journey, we do not doubt, but your memories will return.”

Green Eyes glanced over at him, then, and he frowned. “We don’t know where we’re going,” he said. “Or how quickly we’re needed at our destination.”

Green Eyes snorted. “Have you looked at the crew?” He waved a hand at the people gathered around them, an eclectic bunch from a number of different peoples, if the massive differences in their appearances could be used as an indicator. “I don’t think anyone is waiting for us with baited breath. We don’t seem to be a warship or any kind of official vessel. We certainly have no uniforms.” He shrugged.

“Still.” He frowned. “How long will to take us to reach the borders of your lands?”

The creature shifted back to blue. “A matter of days. Going around, based on the course set into your navigation systems, would take you at least a month. You will have safe passage on your journey. No one can utilize weapons in our territory. No one remembers how.”

He looked at Green Eyes, who shrugged, and said, at a loss for what else to say, “Alright. I suppose we might as well stick with our original course.”

#

After the creature disappeared off of their viewscreen, they were left to their own devices. “Hey, Red Cape,” one of the people on the bridge said - he appeared to be made of stone - walking up with an expression that might be a frown. “I’m not so sure you should be, you know, speaking for the whole ship, as it were. Might be I’m Captain, you never know.”

Red Cape felt a more acceptable thing to call himself than ‘handsome.’ He frowned back at the rock man and said, “What makes you think that?”

“Well-” Rock Guy gestured at himself “-I’m bigger than all the rest of you.”

“And much rockier,” Green Eyes said, flashing a quick smile. “But we woke up in the captain’s quarters, according to this.” He gestured at the screen he’d been doing something with. Apparently, gathering information.

Rock Guy sighed. It was a strange sound. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’m not sure I’d want to be captain, anyway. Seems like it would be a lot of work and I don’t know where I’d start. But that does mean you could be captain. You have a bigger cloak.”

Green Eyes smiled wider. He said, “I do, don’t I? Well, regardless of who captains this craft when we have our memories, I agree with Handsome over there. We should pass through this land as quickly as possible. I’ve gone over our inventory and we’re not exactly overloaded with rations. The faster we get to where we’re going, the better off we’ll be.”

#

They spent most of the hours that remained in the day traveling around the ship to speak with the confused passengers, explaining the situation as best they could. No one seemed completely satisfied with the answers they received, but that couldn’t be helped, truly.

By the time they returned to the quarters where they had awoken, Red Cloak had a headache building behind his eye. He let out a relieved sigh as the door shut behind them. The room felt no more familiar than it had when they’d awoken in it, just a collection of walls and furniture that meant nothing to him.

Green Eyes wandered through the room, dragging his fingers across the walls, the few pieces of furniture in the space, the window that showed the stars beyond. He paused in front of the window, bracing his forearm against it and staring out. The light of the stars limed his skin and glowed off of his hair, drawing Red Cloak across the space to him.

Red Cloak leaned a shoulder against the window, glancing at the stars and wondering how impressive he found them, normally. Perhaps he was so inured to their sight that they meant nothing to him, usually.

Now they were beautiful. For a moment he gazed across them, before his gaze was drawn back to something nearer and warmer, though, he found, no less beautiful.

He reached out, brushing back Green Eyes’ hair, to better see the slope of his cheek and the line of his jaw. Green Eyes blinked, looking over at him, the light of the stars reflecting in the depths of his eyes. He asked, as Red Cloak slid his hand down, resting his palm against the side of Green Eyes’ neck in a way that felt, abruptly, familiar, “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Red Cloak said, and leaned down, slowly, telegraphing his intentions.

Green Eyes did not jerk away. His pulse raced against Red Cloak’s palm; his breathing came faster. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the sight kicking Red Cloak low in the gut, providing the inspiration he needed to close the last of the distance, kissing Green Eyes as the stars bathed them in light.

He kissed Green Eyes softly, wondering briefly how they kissed normally, for he did not doubt that they did. They fitted together too well, too perfectly, for it to be otherwise. Green Eyes made a pleased, curious sound, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, abruptly shifting the quality of the embrace from something testing to open hunger.

Red Cloak threaded his fingers back into Green Eyes’ hair, shifting, wanting to press against all of his body. They stumbled a step, catching against the wall which provided a perfect surface to shove Green Eyes against, the better to focus on seeing just how thoroughly he could be kissed.

Red Cloak kissed back against his jaw - cool and smooth - and felt Green Eyes scrambling at his armor. He sounded delightfully distracted when he panted, “How--how do you get this off?”

It was enough to draw Red Cloak up short for a moment. He reached for clasps at the shoulders and found nothing. It seemed the armor had just been… poured onto him. He yanked at it, furious at this impracticability that was even now preventing him from pursuing more intriguing aims. 

Close to him, pinned still to the wall, Green Eyes made a victorious sound as his armor just dissolved into nothing with a wash of cool air. “Ha,” he said, smiling in evident delight, “that wasn’t so--”

Red Cloak swallowed the words, surging back to kiss him, because he was naked, gloriously so, the expanse of his pale skin long and lean and utterly touchable. Hands wandered where they would, drawing out gasps and groans and the occasional chiding, “Wait, wait, we need to get--get you out--we can’t do anything until--”

Red Cloak could think of a few things they could do right now. He hadn’t forgotten that much. 

His armor protected his knees when he knelt, the better to explore every inch of Green Eyes’ skin, feeling his skin jump and quake as he shook to pieces under all the dedicated attention Red Cloak could bring to bear.

Green Eyes sagged, at the end, while Red Cloak swallowed the salt-bitter taste in his mouth. Red Cloak grinned, pulling at him while he was all loose-limbed, hauling Green Eyes over his shoulder and standing, listening to the surprised squawk he let out.

“What are-”

Green Eyes cut off when Red Cloak reached the bed in their room and dumped him down onto the mattress. He bounced, once, hair a tangle around his shoulders, face and throat flushed red, wet traces across all his pale skin. He glared and then, as Red Cloak managed to rip off one of the vambraces around his arms, his expression shifting, pupils widening as his mouth fell open.

He looked lust-struck.

It was a nice look.

Red Cloak redoubled his efforts, demanding, “How did you get yours off?”

Green Eyes rolled, clever fingers reaching out, looking for the seams Red Cloak couldn’t seem to find. He said, “I just wanted it off and off it came.” He looked up, a grin on his face. “Maybe you’d rather leave yours on?”

Red Cloak could think of little else he wanted more than to be out of this restricting armor, free of it’s--

A strange feeling swept over him, a tingle across his skin that flowed down his body in a wash of light. Green Eyes made a started sound, jerking his hands back, but not before the electricity danced across to him, flowing up his hands and disappearing around the flesh of his wrists.

Red Cloak jerked forward, grabbing his arms, aware distantly that his armor had been swept away with the lightning but presently unconcerned with his newfound freedom. “Don’t move,” he said, though he had no idea, truly, what such an exposure would do or mean, the lightning hadn’t hurt him. “I’ll--”

“I’m alright,” Green Eyes said, flexing his fingers in and out. “It didn’t hurt. Not really.”

“I struck you with lightning and it didn’t hurt?” Red Cloak asked, frowning, but he saw no sign of pain on Green Eyes’ face. Green Eyes shrugged, tugging a bit against Red Cloak’s grip and, when he could not pull free, squirming a little. The flush on his chest spread down further, derailing Red Cloak’s worry all at once.

“Good,” he said, aware of the thickness of his voice as he shifted onto the bed, pushing forward, keeping his grip on Green Eyes, and pinning his arms to the bed on either side of his head. Green Eyes twisted a bit and grinned up with a smile that made Red Cloak want to take him apart.

He saw absolutely no reason to fight that urge and leaned down, kissing him deep and hungry as their bodies moved together.

#

Afterwards, they lay pressed together in the narrow bed. It truly wasn’t large enough to hold them both, but Red Cloak saw no reason they couldn’t make it work. He quite liked the press of their bodies together, which left a low simmer of heat in his gut, banked back for now.

Green Eyes hummed softly as Red Cloak feathered light kisses across his shoulders, which seemed made for such things. “I think,” Green Eyes said, curving his head forward to allow Red Cloak better access, “that you have discovered how we spend much of our time.”

Red Cloak huffed a laugh, skimming his hand down the long line of Green Eyes’ back and up his spine once more, feeling him shiver. Want stirred around inside him once more; he believed that they did this often, but for the moment it was all brand new. How lucky he was to get to learn all of Green Eyes’ flesh twice. He shifted over, sliding his hand further down, and Green Eyes rasped, “Oh, again?”

“Again,” Red Cloak agreed, nuzzling up behind Green Eyes’ ear and setting to forming some new memories to tide them through until they passed out of this strange place.

#

They slept, at some point, worked to exhaustion with sweet effort. Red Cloak woke feeling heavy, content, and surprisingly cool. He cracked an eye open, craning his head up to frown down at the weight sprawled half-across him. He took in familiar dark hair, but the pale skin of the night before had gone.

Green Eyes had turned blue at some point. Red Cloak laid his head back down, frowning up at the ceiling. On the one hand, he could feel Green Eyes breathing. On the other… blue. Then again, perhaps this was normal. He nudged Green Eyes a little, rewarded with a shift of their bodies together and a soft, questioning noise.

“You turned blue,” Red Cloak said, because he could think of nothing else to address immediately.

Green Eyes stilled and then, after a moment, sat up, looking down at his body. He was blue all over, a deep, rich color. His eyes had changed as well, to dark red. He stared at his hands, turning them this way and that, and said, “Hold on, I think I can turn it back.”

He narrowed his eyes, and his fingers shifted back to the more familiar pale skin, the shifting color spreading over his hands and up his arms before Red Cloak reached out and caught him. “What?” he asked, the blue rushing back down as his concentration broke.

“Why don’t you leave it for a while?” Red Cloak said, tugging until Green Eyes smirked at him and straddled his hips.

Green Eyes tilted his head to the side, tangled hair spilling over one shoulder. “Hm,” he said, shifting to settle as Red Cloak dropped hands to his hips, squeezing. “What will you give me if I do?” he asked, his smile stretching a bit wider.

Red Cloak shifted his hips up and got a laugh in return, Green Eyes leaning forward to murmur, “I think you were going to give me that anyway,” against his lips before kissing him.

#

Eventually, hunger got the better of them and they dragged themselves from the tangled nest of blankets upon the narrow bed. Green Eyes flashed him a slantwise smile, standing naked in the middle of their room, as his flesh shifted from blue to cream. Red Cloak watched him, reconsidering the prospect of eating, and said, “Why are you changing back?”

Green Eyes shrugged, the transformation completed as he frowned down at his body. He glanced up briefly, his eyes sharp, “No one else was blue.”

“So?” Red Cloak sat up fully, stretching his arms and enjoying the tinges left behind by pleasant exertion.

“So,” Green Eyes said, making a triumphant little noise as his armor poured down over his skin, hiding it from view, “I’d rather not cause problems for myself. It seems logical that I was this color for a reason, doesn’t it? It’s more uncomfortable, so it couldn’t be a matter of simplicity.”

Red Clock frowned fully, standing and padding across the room, lifting Green Eyes’ chin with a finger. “Uncomfortable how?”

Green Eyes shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget I mentioned it. Now, are you going to get dressed so we can eat?”

#

It took Red Cloak a few tries to recall his own armor, which coalesced out of the ether in a burst of electric energy. Lightning grounded itself onto the walls around their room, leaping from his skin to metal. 

“Very impressive,” Green Eyes said, drily, but he was grinning and his eyes lingered across Red Cloak’s skin. Red Cloak pulled in him for a kiss while electricity still danced across his flesh, capturing the little hiss of surprise and swallowing it before they left their room.

People moved through the halls of the ship, looking less unsure than they had the previous day. Red Cloak nodded and smiled as they made their way to the area that Green Eyes swore was used for dining.

They found something like a mess hall through one passageway, crowded with tables, chairs and people, all of them eating some kind of thin soup. There was a machine set into the far wall that, apparently, produced the substance. There were bowls stacked beside it.

Green Eyes took one, twirled it in his hands, and filled it without complaint before making his way over to a table near one wall. Red Cloak followed him, his own bowl steaming slightly in his hands. He frowned down at the food as they sat and asked, “What is this?”

“Nutrient gruel,” Green Eyes said, eating with quick, precise movements, scanning the room around them as he did. When Red Cloak raised an eyebrow in question, he shrugged. “I read quickly. The information was in the ship. It seems to be the only food we’ve brought with us.”

Red Cloak stirred the gruel and raised a bite cautiously to his lips. It tasted… of nothing much in particular. “Why would we only bring this?” he asked.

Green Eyes hummed. “It’s possible this is what everyone eats on space voyages. How would we know?”

Red Cloak nodded, but he looked out across the mess room. There were families gathered around, grouped together. They all wore clothing that looked as though it had seen better days. He said, speaking slowly as he put the thought together, “I wonder if we are not colonists.”

“More likely refugees,” Green Eyes said, flashing a fast smile when Red Cloak looked back at him. “Look at them,” he said, gesturing with his spoon. “Look at us, for that matter. We are better garbed, but we show the marks of severe injury. You only have one eye. We are clad for war. The ship is barely carrying anything besides us, this gruel, and extra fuel. I saw no building supplies, no possessions tucked away, no trade goods…Wherever we left, we left quickly.”

“Refugees from what?” Red Cloak asked. He ate the gruel with a new grimness spreading out through his mind.

Green Eyes shrugged and tapped the side of his head. It was strange, how easy it was to expect him to have the answers to any question that sprang to Red Cloak’s mind. They spoke little more through the meal, whatever conversational subjects they usually explored lost to the Fog.

#

The gruel felt insubstantial in Red Cloak’s stomach as they left the mess hall, passing more people in the halls. He felt the need to explore more of the ship, to put together the pieces that Green Eyes had already compiled into a different shape.

He found little to convince himself that Green Eyes was incorrect. The quarters on the ship were small, but hardly cramped. Most people seemed to own little beyond the clothes they wore. The ship’s stores were nearly as bare.

He frowned, disliking the idea that they were running from something he had forgotten, dire dread consuming his thoughts as they entered into a large storage bay that was filled, strangely with movement and sound. He looked down at the space below, startled to find anything in the storage bay, much less people, swarming from one end to the other, all laughing with delight.

They chased a ball, roughly the size of his head. There were a number of hoops set along the walls at different heights and different angles. As he watched, a man with striking golden eyes hit the ball with a shoulder, sent it careening through one of the higher hoops, and laughed as some of the others swarmed him, cheering.

“Ah,” Green Eyes said, leaning against the railing and looking down, “a game.” He wore a distant sort of amusement on his face, eyes tracking the movement of the players below.

Red Cloak shook aside the shadows around his thoughts. Perhaps they were refugees -- likely they were -- but he could do nothing about it. Not without his memory. And, for the moment, the game below looked very entertaining. He nudged Green Eyes. “We should play.”

Green Eyes glanced up at him, eyes wide and startled. “What?” he asked, shaking his head, “No, I don’t--”

“Come on,” Red Cloak said, tugging him along. Green Eyes did not offer much resistance as they hurried down the stairs at the far end of the room. The group below greeted them warmly, pleased, the golden eyed man stepping forward to explain the rules.

Green Eyes removed his cloak and then, with a frown, most of the rest of his armor. “It’s hot,” he said, when Red Cloak almost walked into a wall at the sight. “I’m going to overheat in this garb. Why are we doing this?”

It did not, actually, feel very warm in the ship, even in this room full of activity and motion. Red Cloak decided not to argue the point, watching Green Eyes twist his hair up with rapt attention. “Because it’s fun,” he said, and cleared his throat when Green Eyes shot him a smug, amused look.

“Oh, is it?” Green Eyes asked, bumping into Red Cloak as he passed, bare chested and glorious to look upon. Red Cloak adjusted the front of his armor and nodded.

And he was proved correct. The game was an exhilarating distraction from the worrying thoughts inside his mind about their unknown point of origin and hidden destination. They ran with all the others, snagging the ball and smacking it back and forth as they went, and, if Red Cloak were sometimes distracted when Green Eyes brushed past him to take the ball, well. That was understandable, he felt.

Certainly, no one scolded him for it.

One of the larger players _did_ accuse Green Eyes of cheating, once, though when Green Eyes laughingly asked for proof to back the accusations he received a scowl for his troubles. During the next burst of play, the other player knocked Green Eyes into the wall.

The player cried out and jerked back, the smell of ozone filling the space around them, before Red Cloak realized that electricity had jumped from his skin once more. He shook out the sparks still around his hand, grimacing as the player held an arm close.

Green Eyes stared between them, something moving behind his expression that Red Cloak could not fathom. Green Eyes slid away from the wall smoothly, rotating his shoulder as he said, “Perhaps that’s enough for the day?”

#

“The lightning doesn’t hurt you,” Red Cloak said, after they’d left the more subdued game behind, moving once more through the winding corridors of the ship. He could not shake the image of the man he’d shocked, unintentional though the injury had been. “Does it?”

“It didn’t yesterday,” Green Eyes said, shrugging.

“Why?” Red Cloak was beginning to dislike all the questions adding up while they blundered about without their memories. He wished they could just… remember.

Green Eyes glanced up at him, a sharp smile sitting on his mouth. “Perhaps I’m the only one who can bear it. Perhaps that’s why you took me to your bed.”

Red Cloak snorted back. “That’s not why I took you to my bed.”

“Oh?” Green Eyes spun on a heel, walking backwards with no apparent concern that he might stride into something. “Do tell--oh!”

His eyes darkened fetchingly when Red Cloak crowded him against the wall all at once, boxing him in and bending to kiss him. When Red Cloak drew back, Green Eyes followed, murmuring against his mouth, “Perhaps you ought to take me to bed _now_.”

Red Cloak saw the wisdom in that course of action immediately. They found their way back to their quarters without trouble, memory or no, and this time Red Cloak had no problems dismissing his armor.

Green Eyes shuddered and bowed against him as the electricity danced between them, gasping when Red Cloak stole another kiss and tumbled him down. They did not make it to the bed, coupling by the door in a fierce scramble, sparks jumping back and forth between their skin in the sweet aftermath.

“It does not hurt you?” Red Cloak asked, when thought returned, his forehead pressed against Green Eyes’ shoulder. “You are sure?”

“Mm, very sure,” Green Eyes said, tilting his head to the side in a way that turned his neck into the most interesting spot on the ship. “I quite like it, actually.” 

“Oh?” Red Cloak asked, peppering kisses up the stretch of Green Eyes’ neck, towards the sharp line of his jaw. He slid a hand around, curious to see how much Green Eyes liked it, and was rewarded with a hitching breath and a shudder in all the places they touched. “Again?” he asked, to be sure before he charged forward.

“Yes, again,” Green Eyes said, shifting as best he could, rocking forward and, gloriously, back. “ _Please_.”

Red Cloak buried a groan against his hair and hurried to oblige. 

#

They ran into no other vessels in their travels across the alien’s space. Or, Red Cloak thought sometimes, perhaps they did and such meetings were just washed away from their memories afterwards. It seemed a large area to run into no one else, no other planets, nothing…. 

Why take so much space as territory if it were empty?

He set that aside with the other questions he couldn’t answer to avoid going mad. That grew easier to do with practice, to simply put aside all the worries he could not address and enjoy the moments as they came.

Some moments were more enjoyable than others. The ship they traveled on was not in the best condition; it’s disrepair was obvious even before things began to break. Half of the malfunctions occured in areas that already looked like they had been hastily repaired, the patchwork corrections falling apart.

Red Cloak had no more an understanding of mechanics than anyone else aboard, but his ability to call lightning did make him useful in several cases, were metal needed melted back together. He spent most of one day repairing a fracture that was leaking some kind of gas into the ship, causing power to fluctuate across the craft.

By the time he finished he felt grimy and overhot, wiping his hands off on his cloak as he scanned the halls for Green Eyes, who had disappeared at some point in the day.

He found Green Eyes in a large room with no use they could discern. He sat within, surrounded by the majority of the children on the ship, who were watching with rapt attention as he brought colorful figures and shapes to life in the air above them.

He was telling a story of some kind, near the end of it by the sound of things. Red Cloak leaned against the doorframe, listening along and watching great warriors rise up to fight some monster or the other, before returning victorious to their halls.

The children exclaimed with delight and then complaints as the images faded away, demanding more and further entertainment. “Tomorrow,” Green Eyes told them, standing and glancing towards Red Cloak, as though he’d known all along that he had company. “I’m needed for another task.”

A small wave of the children followed him out to the hall, bumping past and hurrying off, hopefully to their parents. “You’re good with them,” Red Cloak said, bussing kisses against Green Eyes’ cheek and mouth.

“Everyone likes to listen to a story,” Green Eyes said, shrugging. “And it kept them from crying over the flickering lights. Are you finished then?”

“It appears so.” Red Cloak did not doubt that there would be yet further breakdowns that they would need to blunder their way through. 

“Good.” Green Eyes flashed him a smile and turned on a heel. “Come along, I have something to show you.” He led the way back to their room, opened the door, and marched over to the washing unit that stood near the bed, which he gestured to with a flourish.

“I know I’m filthy,” Red Cloak said, dismissing the armor - that became much easier with practice - and frowning at the grime across his skin. He did not particularly look forward to bathing. The water was always cold as ice.

Green Eyes made a sharp, amused noise, and said. “Come here.” He turned on the washing unit, water filling up the cistern from below, and plunged a rag into it. It took Red Cloak a moment to realize the steam rose from the surface of the water to wreathe Green Eyes’ hands. “I discovered how to heat it,” Green Eyes said, wringing out the rag and gesturing at Red Cloak impatiently. “I know how you mislike cold. I said come here.”

Red Cloak stepped to him, half laughing when Green Eyes nudged him to sitting on the bed beside the bathing unit. His laughter strangled off when Green Eyes snagged his hand and, with quick, efficient movements, set to cleaning off the grease and filth. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gone thick and hoarse.

Green Eyes flicked him a look, wearing innocence in his eyes and a curved smile upon his mouth. He slid the rag up Red Cloak’s arm. “Getting you clean. As you said, you’re filthy.”

“You--” _don’t have to_ died in Red Cloak’s throat as Green Eyes shifted around, wringing out the rag once more and washing the dirt off of his chest. It felt nice. Very nice. And progressively nicer as more and more of the grime washed away under the hot water and thorough ministrations.

By the time Green Eyes dropped the rag into the basin, all of Red Cloak’s skin tingled and his breathing had gone shallow. His gut felt impossibly tight with desire which heightened yet further when Green Eyes shifted, hands pushing at Red Cloak’s thighs as he bent his dark head.

“Mm,” he said, tongue dragging across clean skin, and Red Cloak knocked his head back against the wall, thighs and stomach tensing helplessly. He felt Green Eyes smile against his flesh, and threaded his fingers back into Green Eyes’ hair, the strands cool and silky beneath his skin as he watched the bob of Green Eyes’ head and listened to the wet sounds of his mouth.

Afterwards, he pulled Green Eyes up and kissed him fiercely, hungrily, until his limbs go longer felt molten and thought returned.

#

The days of their sojourn through the memoryless lands could not last forever. The last rushed past, leaving Red Cloak with a strange feeling of dread in the back of his head. He did not know what they would remember, when they crossed out of this strange territory and the Fog, but he had the sense by now that not all of it would be pleasant.

Their time unburdened by memories already felt like some odd gift, about to be taken away.

The creatures that claimed ownership of this section of space had not said specifically when they would exit their territory. Red Cloak had no way to judge when their memories would return, not exactly.

He decided to make as many new memories as he could, while yet they had the time. And so it was that he and Green Eyes were wrapped together in their bed, Green Eyes’ legs hooked over his arms, both of them panting and spent, when a strange feeling washed up the back of his neck and plunged forward through his mind, sending them down to blackness.

#

Thor woke up sprawled across something warm and soft. He opened his eye, alarm already beginning to ring through his mind, even before the last of unconsciousness faded away. His gaze found an expanse of pale skin, besmirched here and there with marks he recognized. 

He jerked abruptly, up and away, as though all the flesh he laid against burned him. On the bed - on the thrice cursed bed, by all that was good, _what had he done_ \- Loki flinched and groaned, curling to one side and grabbing at the tangled blankets.

His hair lay loose across Thor’s mattress. Sweat yet clung to his skin. A flush spread over his cheeks, down his throat, and across his chest. There were smears of wet across his stomach and between his thighs and--and Thor stumbled back another step, not yet able to get breath into his lungs, his heart pounding so hard it felt as though it would burst free of his ribs.

Loki frowned, blinking his eyes open and going abruptly rigid. His fingers curled into the mattress, hard. His knuckles went white as bone. Nausea beat at Thor’s throat; he took another weaving step back, and another, and another, until he bumped into the wall.

Across from him, Loki sat up, the movement slow and cautious as he reached down to rub his fingers curiously through the mess on his stomach, his expression locked down and blank. “Thor…” he said, his voice still hoarse - _this couldn’t be happening_ \- as he looked up, finally meeting Thor’s gaze. “What…?”

Thor had no answers, nothing but the tightness around his chest and the nausea filling his gut, being pushed aside slightly by a flare of heat and interest that his body had given into craving in the last few days. 

He tore his gaze away, calling desperately to his armor and, still struggling to breathe, fled his room.

#

He found the other Aesir clustered about in the halls and on the bridge, many of them laughing and looking embarrassed. Heimdall stood near the command chair, and, when he looked upon Thor, his expression betrayed something much like pity and something like disgust.

Thor put his head down and gritted his teeth. The journey through the halls had returned his ability to breathe, but done nothing for the nausea. He had-- he’d just-- he’d--

He pushed all the thoughts to the side, viciously. “Are we still on course for Midgard?” he asked, strangling out the words. That was important. That was something he could worry about, not the sweet expanse of Loki’s neck, reddened by his beard, or the give in his flesh, or--

“We are,” Heimdall said, and he sounded like he had to force the words out through his teeth.

Thor flinched and turned his head to the side. “Tell me about our status,” he said, squeezing the back of the chair and swallowing convulsively at the bile rising in the back of his throat.

#

Their old craft had barely made it through the lands without memory. They’d neglected vital upkeep, simply because they had not remembered it. The other crafts in their small group - remembered _now_ , when the Fog had lifted - fared little better.

Hurried repairs took up much of the next two days, keeping Thor’s thoughts and hands busy. If he was bent to a task, it was more difficult to notice the stares he caught from the other Aesir, or the way they whispered among themselves.

They knew. They all knew, every one of them. He and Loki had not thought to practice discretion. What had been the point of subtlety when assuming you were falling into a relationship well established? And now, for that folly, for all his follies, all the Aesir watched him and murmured comments.

He saw no sign of Loki anywhere. He hated himself for looking, but everytime he slowed down his thoughts rushed back to--

\--the sight of Loki between his thighs, breath hot on sensitive skin--

\--the flex of muscles in Loki’s shoulders when Thor got him on his knees--

\--the way he smiled when Thor held him still and kissed every inch of his skin--

\--to things he should have never known or done. He tried to keep them pushed aside, but they only returned, over and over again, leaving him despairing and battling wants he should never have given into.

#

The terrible pressure in Thor’s mind grew no better. He feared what he would see when he eventually slept. He feared returning to his room, but things could not just continue as they were. He knew that.

Words must needs be exchanged about what they had done -- what _Thor _had done-- and he knew that, too. He stood in front of the door to his rooms, knowing it all and delaying yet with sick dread in his chest.__

__He gritted his teeth, eventually, and opened the door, avoiding looking at the mess of his bed. But there was nowhere better to look in the room. The window only reminded him of taking Loki’s weight and holding him against the backdrop of the galaxy while moving in his body. The bathing unit--_ _

__He swallowed convulsively even as his treacherous body stirred at the memories. He covered his face, bravery near deserting him, but they needed to speak. And he would rather the conversation not occur where anyone else could possibly hear it. His people had heard enough already._ _

__He mustered himself and said, into the quiet, empty space, “Loki.”_ _

__Nothing in the room changed. He was left alone, with only the memories of tangling his fingers in Loki’s hair to pull back his head while pushing into him, hearing his--_ _

__Thor dug his nails up into his palms. A part of him wanted to scream. He said, evenly as he could through the tightness in his throat, “Loki, please.”_ _

__He felt the air change as Loki materialized from nothing. He risked a glance and found Loki standing near the far corner of the room, as distant as possible from Thor. He looked pale and drawn, with circles beneath his eyes and his shoulders up. He looked like he needed to be kissed and taken to bed and--_ _

__Thor turned his face away. He said, delaying, “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”_ _

__Loki said nothing. Thor squeezed his eye shut and asked, “Are you… alright?” He had pulled free of Loki’s body abruptly, the last time they lay together, shock and dismay making him clumsy and unthinking. He kept thinking about it, that unintentional cruelty. He -- the him that had existed only in the Fog -- would never had done such a thing._ _

__“I’m unharmed,” Loki said, and Thor heard in his voice the same tension he felt inside his chest. He heard, also, that it was not exactly his question being answered. He nodded._ _

__“Good. I… haven’t seen you,” he said, this smalltalk an attempt free of courage to put off addressing the tremendous tension filling the room alongside them._ _

__Loki sighed and shrugged. “It seemed better to be unseen, for a while.” Thor grimaced. The Aesir whispered and murmured behind his back. He wondered, suddenly, what they might do to Loki, who they loved less. The thought sent a wash of alarm up his spine and directly into the forefront of his thoughts._ _

__“Has anyone--”_ _

__“Why did you call for me?” Loki interrupted. His tone had not changed, each syllable tightly controlled._ _

__Thor turned to the wall and pressed his fist against it, stung by the dismissal of the purposeless chatter he’d wanted to drag out as long as possible. It left him wanting to fight… something. The past. The aliens that did this -- but no alien did this, _really_ , no creature forced him to cup the back of Loki’s head and draw him close, nothing made him _assume_ immediately that he had the right to touch and kiss and _have_._ _

__It had just been an opportunity for this weakness inside him to escape._ _

__He shook that thought away. “I wanted to--to explain.” How could he explain? He didn’t even know what he wanted to explain. It had been a lie, in any case. He swallowed around the thickness in his throat and admitted, “To apologize.”_ _

__Loki made a strange sound, capturing Thor’s attention. He had turned slightly, his arms crossed over his chest. Defensive. Loki said, watching him from the corners of his eyes and pretending he wasn’t, “There is nothing to apologize for. Or to explain. You didn’t know we were….” He waved one of his hands, fast and jerky, between them._ _

__“I should have known,” Thor said, the terrible weight of that eating up behind his ribs. _He should have known_. How did he not know, how did he forget all the careful barriers he’d set for himself? He had not waited even an entire day before taking Loki to bed. He had lasted scant hours. It was--_ _

__Loki blew a breath out through his nose. “Don’t.” He began to pace, back and forth. “You couldn’t have-- Look, this doesn’t have to be-- We didn’t remember our history, either of us….” He shrugged, looking up with something carefully measuring briefly visible in his expression, as though he were trying to build a path out of this situation for Thor’s sake and wished to see how it was going._ _

__The attempt made Thor’s chest ache, something sweet and painful all at once. The wash of emotion gutted him, dragging words from his throat before he could stop them. “I almost wish we had not remembered.” He watched Loki freeze, stillness sweeping over him like a winter wind. Thor barked a laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Those days in the Fog… I cannot remember the last time I was so happy.”_ _

__He regretted the words as he said them. He should have taken the bridge of words Loki was building, walked along it back to some sceptre of normalcy, tucked away any of his feelings about the mistake they’d both blundered into. The admission hung between them, spoken into being._ _

__It was one thing to make such a mistake._ _

__It was another to admit regret about it ending. He grimaced, the sourness in his stomach spreading further._ _

__Loki stared at him, unblinking, and then said, “Surely the fact that you forgot the loss of Mother, Father, and Asgard helped with that.” _Still_ trying to offer Thor a way out of this madness, and the recognition of his efforts stung and burned. Would Thor have seen it, days ago, before the Fog, before he was given unfettered affection that colored, still, every word Loki said in his ears?_ _

__Thor dragged his hand back over his head. “Surely,” he agreed. “But.”_ _

__But a not insignificant part of it had been the abiding sense of rightness he’d found with Loki in his arms and in his bed. He was of half a mind, in that moment, to turn the ship around and plunge back into the Fog. He wondered what would happen, if they would forget what happened previously in those lands. He did not think it would matter; he had a feeling he would find his way right back to Loki, regardless._ _

__“I… was happy, too,” Loki said. He looked lost. He took a step forward and stopped, but his movement had freed Thor, who crossed the distance, watching Loki’s eyes widen the closer he got. He wanted to… to pull Loki close, to order him out of the room, to vomit, to turn the ship around. He saw no way to reconcile his wants._ _

__He focused instead on what they needed. They needed to reach Midgard. To find a home for the Aesir. He needed to be a leader. None of his needs left room for this aching in his chest, this want that he could not have, this memory of _happiness_._ _

__“I’m sorry,” he said, because he could think of nothing else to say, not with all the admissions tangling around them. He had been happy. Loki had been happy. It was a happiness they could not have. Loki’s mouth quirked, bitterness in the expression._ _

__“You’ve already said so,” Loki said, close but untouched, unkissed._ _

__“We have to… set it aside,” Thor said, putting the words out, though his tongue fought him, as though unwilling to cooperate with this necessary act. He should want to set it aside. He should want to scrub every hour of those days in the Fog away. He could not make himself wish for that. The bittersweet warmth of that happiness stood as a bulwark against all else they had gone through._ _

__“I know,” Loki said, but his eyes cut to the side, and his mouth twisted unhappily, for just an instant, before he flashed a fast, sharp smile. “We can never make things easy for ourselves, can we?”_ _

__Thor snorted. Things had been easy, in the Fog. Deliciously easy. He shook those thoughts away, his attention focused solely on Loki, whose visage and closeness proved a sweet torture. “We can’t,” he agreed, and - as though to make the words true even in the moment - fitted his palm against the side of Loki’s neck, a familiar brush of contact he only now recognized for the intimate connection it was and had always been._ _

__Loki shivered as Thor brushed a thumb along his jawline, face tilting up most alluringly as he asked, “What are you doing?”_ _

__Thor managed a smile that felt strange on his mouth. “Kissing you goodbye,” he said, watching Loki’s eyes snap wider, feeling him flinch, realizing, in that moment, that he was inflicting a wound. “We should have, at least, a kiss goodbye.” He could not just pretend that what had happened had not. He needed something, some closure._ _

__“No,” Loki said, but Thor swayed forward, their noses brushing before their lips met. Thor closed his eyes, giving over to it, though he had intended to -- to keep the kiss light and brief. A brush of connection._ _

__It turned to a hungry thing that left Loki panting against his mouth when finally he drew back. The heat in Loki’s eyes hooked into his gut, pulling. Thor shut his eye before he could give in to the urge to take yet one more goodbye, turning his face to the side. Thor shuddered and clenched his jaw, taking a step backwards, reluctant to lift his hands from Loki’s body, but marshalling the effort to succeed._ _

__He said, “And now never again.”_ _

__He breathed too heavily and his body sung with want. He set those reactions to the side, exerting vicious control of himself to deny the heat in his blood. He made himself look over at Loki, Loki who stared at him, his expression despairing as he said, “Thor, I--”_ _

__He never got the chance to finish his thought. Alarms rang out through the ship at that moment, proximity warnings to tell them of the approach of other vessels, crafts prepared for war, and boarding parties._ _

__Thor swore, bitterly, but there was a part of him glad for the call to battle, for any distraction but the unwanted grief spreading through his chest. The ship rocked beneath his feet, terribly, and he reached out to steady Loki, who flinched back away from him, his expression disconsolate for a moment, before something in his eyes and mouth shifted, back to the faint amusement he wore so much of the time._ _

__“Come on,” Thor said, turning away from the cutting expression even as the ship jerked once more. “Let us see what new hurdle this will be.”_ _


End file.
